The First Time That Wasn't
by LadyDivine91
Summary: A few days after their wedding, Aziraphale and Crowley try their hand at having sex for the first time, just to find out that maybe they should have talked it over a bit more first. Aziraphale x Crowley


"Oh, Crowley …" Aziraphale murmurs as slowly, ever so slowly, Crowley undoes the buttons of Aziraphale's shirt, placing feather-like kisses on the skin underneath each one.

"Mmm … angel …"

Aziraphale threads his fingers in Crowley's hair as another button opens … then another … the demon's lips paving a path to his belly, and then, after that, the waistband of his slacks.

And then …

"Oh …" Aziraphale swallows hard with the realization of where his husband's mouth is headed. His heart inches up his neck with every beat, his hands start to shake, his fingers curling around strands of Crowley's hair and tightening … tightening … tightening. "Mmm … uh … _nnnnn_ …"

"Mmm … _ow_!" Crowley jerks back, his gaze flickering up to his husband's face tilted up to the ceiling, lips and eyes pinched shut, the muscles in his neck so tense Crowley can make out every single vein. "Uh … Aziraphale? Darling? Is there something the matter?"

Aziraphale's eyes snap open. He looks down his body, meeting Crowley's concerned stare, and smiles a little too brightly. "No! Nothing! Nothing is the matter! Why ever would you think there's something the matter?"

"Well, don't get me wrong but the iron grip you have on my hair there was my first clue."

"Oh." Aziraphale loosens his hold, patting down the hair on Crowley's crown, flattening it against his head. "I just ... think I'm overthinking things. But please, by all means, continue."

Crowley tosses his hair back off his forehead and rolls his eyes. "How kind of you to give me permission."

He decides to take a pause, give Aziraphale room to breathe. He kneels up and removes his own shirt, tossing it across the bed and onto the seat of a nearby chair. Aziraphale stares up at his husband - at his lust-filled eyes glowing gold, at his bare chest, at the obvious muscles in his arms and shoulders, at the pleasing way they ripple downward to his narrow waist.

_'Oh my …'_ he thinks, his lower lip trembling as Crowley's eyes move down his angel's face, his gaze traveling over the length of his body. _'When Crowley came up with his human form, he didn't skimp on the details, did he?'_

It's not all that important to him, but Aziraphale has to admit, his husband _is_ gorgeous.

Crowley's eyes stop at Aziraphale's belt.

He licks his lips, and Aziraphale's heart shudders. His cheeks redder than the late-summer sun, he turns his head away. Crowley catches it, as well as the growing expression of terror on his face, and arches an eyebrow.

"Aziraphale … darling … is everything all right?"

"Yes!" he chirps. "Everything's … everything's fine! I just … I have a question."

"Okay …" Crowley leans forward and kisses Aziraphale's exposed neck, deciding to continue while they talk as long as everything's still good. "Shoot."

"Uh … have you ever … done this before?" He side-eyes his demon much the way a mouse might fight through paralytic fear to look at an owl right before it's about to get devoured.

And that definitely isn't lost on Crowley, even with his face buried in his angel's neck.

"Technically … no."

"Technically? What do you mean _technically_?"

"Well, I'm a demon, aren't I? There're a lot of things I do that I don't _need_ to do and vice versa. I don't need to have sex with humans to tempt them. I _could_ have sex with the humans I tempt, I just don't. But that doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing. Virgins have sex every day, angel … younger than us, I'd wager." He chuckles. "We'll figure it out."

"So, what you're telling me is there are people out there who _think_ you two have had sex, but you actually haven't?"

"Two, three, six, a dozen …" Crowley teases. "All _technically_. In some time periods, I'm a _legend_."

"Yes, in your own mind. Oh, _Lord_."

"But I'm game for the real thing if you are. Try everything once right?"

"I guess."

"Good." Crowley takes Aziraphale by the shoulders and starts gently turning him over. The change in position startles Aziraphale to the point that he leaps almost three feet across the bed.

"Wait wait wait! Wh-what are you doing?"

Crowley kneels back up, hands on his thighs, nails digging in to the fabric of his trousers. "I don't know how you pictured doing this, but the easiest way would be for you to be on your hands and knees."

"B-b-but … but _why_?"

"Oh, God," Crowley mutters, running a hand down his face. "Now, _I_ have questions. Aziraphale … do you _really_ want to do this?"

Aziraphale stares at Crowley, searching the demon's face for the right answer. He settles for: "_Yes_ …?"

"Honestly? Deep down in your heart of hearts, do you want to have sex?"

Aziraphale nods his head and shakes it at the same time. He looks confused and humiliated by his husband's question, but eventually fear, and _truth_, rule out the rest. "I … I … No." He hangs his head, mortified by his own admission. "No, I … I don't. And I'm sorry! I don't … I don't like the idea of … and I should have told you, but I just … I was afraid …"

Crowley moves back to his side of the bed, taking Aziraphale with him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close to his chest. "Talk to me," he says, tucking the blanket in around his angel. "What _do_ you like? What aren't you afraid of?"

Aziraphale takes a moment to think of the physical connections they've made in the past couple of days since their wedding. It hasn't all been bad. A lot of it has actually been quite pleasant. And those are the things he'd like to repeat – daily, if possible.

"Kissing," he says decidedly.

"Really?" Crowley says, fond smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, yes. Oh, I very much like kissing."

"And hugging, I assume?" Crowley says, giving him a squeeze.

"Yes."

"Touching?"

Aziraphale clears his throat, a sure sign that he's uncomfortable. "_Some_ touching. But everything else … I don't think I'd be all that fond of … those things …"

"Right. Well, you know, it's a rule of thumb that if you can't outright _say_ the thing you're uncomfortable doing, you probably shouldn't be doing it."

"But I love you, and I want to make you happy."

"I _am_ happy. And I want to make _you_ happy."

"But I've lived around humans long enough to know that not wanting to _have sex_ …" he purposefully enunciates every word to his demon's delight "… can sometimes be a deal breaker."

Crowley shrugs. "Not for me. I'm not human."

"So what do we do?" Aziraphale asks.

"What do you mean _what do we do_? Do you love me?"

"Yes. Of course."

"And I love you. So, we continue being in love and do things the way we've always done. The past 6000 years have been a hoot, if you ask me, _not including all that stressful Apocalypse nonsense_. As long as we're happy together, nothing else matters."

"Nothing else matters," Aziraphale repeats with a giddy smile, wrapping his arms around Crowley's torso and hugging him.

"That's right, angel," Crowley says, kissing him on the top of the head.

"Good. So that's settled. What do you want to do _now_?"

"This is nice. We're already in bed … would you like to take a nap?"

"For how long?"

"I don't know – an hour, a day, a week. You decide."

"Hmm … do you want to get some lunch?"

Crowley bounces his head left and right, weighing his choices. He wants to make his angel happy, reassure him that it's all okay. This decision's an easy one. "Yeah, all right."


End file.
